Vigilance
by mywildimagination
Summary: Pride and Wrath's first meeting. Posted for FMA Week Day 2 - Fear.


King Bradley only stayed at boot camp long enough to learn the landmarks and officers, so if asked about the experience, he could answer satisfactorily. He'd already more than mastered basic training, and there was no time to waste. He'd only been a homunculus a few weeks before he was shipped out to the front lines.

His instructions were simple: get promoted, make a name for himself. Bradley was already proving quite proficient; in his second battle he had taken over for a fallen squad leader and was now expected to keep the position. He never heard gossip directly, but his new eye could read lips as easily as large printed letters. "Upstart" and "hell on wheels" colored the lips of every conscript he walked past.

He took extra guard duty, not to get in good with the higher-ups (he already had the support of the most powerful man on the planet after all) but because there was nothing else to do – nothing useful, anyway. He'd rather guard the rear entrance to the refugee camp by himself than waste time with other soldiers. He preferred the early pre-dawn shifts too – at no other time was the camp closer to perfect stillness. Bradley reveled in it.

It also gave him a keener sense for everything that _did_ move. Tonight, for example, was proving to be the strangest shift he'd ever taken. Something out there was moving. He couldn't hear it per se, but there were subtle shifts in the darkness. He wanted to ascribe it to some animal, but something about it just didn't feel right.

Certain he was alone, Bradley removed his eye patch. It quickly became clear that something peculiar was afoot. The darkness _itself_ was moving.

Bradley's hand rested on his sword. "What are you?" he murmured. He drew his sword in order to meet the shadow's attack. A test on his reflexes – an ordinary human would've been stabbed through the head.

Bradley was about to raise the alarm when he heard a voice behind him. "Hello, Wrath the Furious."

Sword still at the ready, Bradley turned his head and did a double-take. How had he missed a refugee child standing just behind him?

A refugee child who knew his name as a homunculus. "Did Father send you?" he asked.

"Not exactly," said the child. "I came to reprimand Sloth. But since you were on my way back, I thought it would be shameful to delay our meeting any longer. I'm Pride the Arrogant."

Bradley had only met a few of the other homunculi before – Lust, Envy, and Gluttony. All three spoke of Pride with respect, if not fear. And if these shadow powers were anything to go by, fear would not be unfounded. "You're the oldest homunculus," he said.

"That's right," said Pride. "I've been watching you, Wrath. Not that it's been difficult. You make for a very peculiar human."

"I should hope so," said Bradley, sheathing his sword, "since I'm not."

"I didn't ask for you to point out the obvious. I'm telling you how terrible you are at blending in with them." Pride smirked. "Ironic, since you're the only one of us who's actually been human."

Bradley frowned as he retied his eye patch. "With all due respect, Pride, I'm not supposed to blend in. I'm supposed to rise to the top."

"Yes – to the title of _Fuhrer_. A _political_ position. No one wants to follow someone who doesn't at least _act_ human."

Bradley didn't understand. He was doing everything his teachers had taught him. "How have I not been acting human?"

"You mean you haven't noticed? Of those who know you, the ones not smart enough to be afraid of you think you're some sort of unfeeling machine."

"They respect me. They _should_ respect me."

"They also need to trust you."

"Trust is earned by fulfilling responsibilities."

Pride's laugh unsettled him. "What textbook did you quote that from?"

Though he didn't show it, Bradley was somewhat embarrassed. It was one of his teachers he had quoted.

Pride continued, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. What would a lab experiment know about gaining trust from an ordinary human? It's not something they can exactly teach you."

Bradley bristled. "I am the best of all the candidates. I was the one able to take a philosopher's stone into his flesh. I can do whatever is asked of me."

"Then answer this for me, Candidate Number Whatever-You-Were. Are you capable of smiling?"

"It was Twelve, and of course I can smile."

"Show me."

Bradley turned the corners of his lips up and bared his teeth. He felt rather foolish.

"Hmm," said Pride. "I suppose it could be worse. Your eyes – or rather, _eye_ – it's not smiling. Smile wider."

Bradley did, though the idea of eyes _smiling_ sounded ridiculous.

"So wide your eye closes."

Bradley felt like an idiot.

"Perfect," said Pride. "Now say, 'Hi, how are you?'"

Bradley repeated the phrase.

"Like you actually care whether I answer."

"Hi, how are you?"

"Good. Now you have to do that to all your comrades."

"Smile and ask how they are?"

"Yes. Humans call that being friendly. Politicians do it all the time."

"And it will cause them to trust me?"

"They might be a little surprised at first, but that's just because they're not expecting it from you. You also have to go drinking with them. You don't have to get drunk, just act like you enjoy it. Most soldiers don't like a comrade who thinks he's too good for beer and companionship."

Bradley frowned. He'd always considered himself a soldier, and he had no taste for how his comrades liked to waste their time off duty. "But how do you know what soldiers like?" he asked. "Your form is that of a child."

Through the corner of his eye Bradley saw the shadows converge on him. "I think you misunderstand the scope of my power," said Pride. "All shadows are mine."

Bradley wasn't fond of the sensation of Pride-shadows on his skin. Their cold embrace was enough to send chills up any normal human's spine. But Bradley contained himself. He knew Pride wasn't going to kill him, so there was no point in trying to fight his shadows off.

Pride continued, "Anywhere an object blocks the light, I have eyes. I can see whatever I want, whenever I want. I've been watching the humans for centuries. I know how they think, why they do the things they do. It makes them so easy to manipulate. Such hopeless creatures.

"I should hope you at least become more congenial around them. You'll be a frustrating partner otherwise."

Bradley frowned. Nobody had told him anything about working so closely with Pride. "Partner?" he asked.

Pride's shadows uncoiled from him as if in disgust. "I really shouldn't have to explain it to you. I _just said_ I'm Father's eyes and ears among the humans. You're going to be their leader. Of course we'll be working together."

"I'm sorry. I just wasn't thinking so far in the future."

Pride rolled his eyes, which made him look more like a child than Bradley had yet seen from him. "It's only a couple decades. As inhuman as you act, you're just as shortsighted as the rest of them. Another reason they're so easy to manipulate.

"Anyway, I've already gotten your commanding officer to deny you extra shifts in the future. Any human can stand around in the middle of the night. _You_ need to prepare to be a leader of men. If you don't make sufficient progress, you should expect to hear from me again."

The shadows retreated towards the child, and Bradley watched Pride fade with his regular eye. His ultimate eye, though, could tell Pride was using the shadows to carry his body away. In farewell Pride said, "I'll be watching you, Wrath."

Once Pride was gone, Bradley practiced the smile he'd been instructed to use. His shift would be over soon, and Pride would expect him to be "friendly" to the soldier who relieved him.

It was the strangest duty Bradley had yet been given, but he had never failed his superiors before. Pride wouldn't be disappointed in his partner-to-be.

Though if Bradley ever said he was looking forward to working with the first homunculus, it would be a lie.


End file.
